


Challenge Accepted

by Cristinuke



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Beads, Anal Hook, BDSM, Fucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Predicament Bondage, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1715561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cristinuke/pseuds/Cristinuke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bets have never been this much fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenge Accepted

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to varjohaltija for looking this over. :D

Coulson had Clint exactly where he wanted. And goddamn, did he make for a sight.

Clint was tied up deliciously; he had on a rope body harness whose red color contrasted nicely with Clint's tanned skin. His wrists had been pulled forward to be locked into the metal shackles that had a double function of serving as a spreader bar to which his ankles were shackled into as well. This forced Clint into a crouch of sorts, like a leap-frog position. But Coulson had been feeling particularly cruel tonight, and had fastened a thick leather collar around Clint's neck, and then pulled his head backwards, tying him to the rope that was attached to the anal hook currently making Clint squirm in desperation.

On top of that, he'd put him on a small plastic crate on top of the bed. This forced Clint to have to balance precariously on the small surface, or risk getting further impaled and into an uncomfortable position, because he was also being suspended from the ceiling by another rope attached to the anal hook.

Overall, he made a _very_ pretty picture.

Better yet was the long vibrator that Coulson had securely fastened along Clint's perineum so that it could vibrate along the metal anal hook as well as the metal cock ring that was currently trapping a rather large, and heavy erection.

Watching Clint lose his mind over predicament bondage was one of Coulson's favorite things.

"Fuck. Happy birthday to me." Coulson intoned, walking around the bed. There was a big, plush armchair that he sometimes liked to sit in and watch Clint struggle with whatever scene he'd set up at the time, but since tonight's play was a little more risky with the crate, Phil wanted to be close by in case anything happened. The shearing scissors were within easy reach should anything untoward happen.

Clint moaned throatily before panting out, "It's not…your birthday…sir." He moaned again when he listed to the right too far and had to jerk himself upright again. Phil knew that the hook's end was pressed insistently along Clint's prostate, and the vibrations were certainly not making things any easier for him.

Phil had to clasp his hands behind his back to fight the urge to reach out and touch. "No, I guess not. Sure feels like it, with you all wrapped up like a present for me." Phil smiled wickedly, and caught Clint's eye before Clint realized his mistake and lost his balance, frantically twisting to avoid falling off of the crate. Clint yelped in shock when he regained his position, but the vibrator shifted slightly, not quite snug along the metal, thus creating a bigger vibration as it jarred against the metal. It was a subtle change of arrangement, but it made all the difference, and Phil could see Clint swallowing painfully. His long throat was exposed brutally, and a drop of sweat was rolling down its expanse in a way that made Phil want to lick a trail up to catch it.

Coulson was impressed that Clint was holding out this long. His cock was a rather angry shade of red from having been denied any sort of release for the better part of the last week. It also probably hadn't helped that Coulson had asked Clint to wear a plug for most of that time, giving him breaks when he'd shove him down over his desk, the kitchen table, Stark's workshop and any other flat surface to fuck him senseless, absolutely merciless and dominating. Clint had resolutely refrained from breaking and begging Coulson to let him come.

It had been a stupid bet that they'd made last week, one instigated by Tony Stark, when they'd been talking about how good they were under pressure, and how long they could last without cracking. Clint had said a snarky remark about lasting longer than Tony, and Coulson had challenged him, telling him he could make Clint beg by the end of the week. Clint had accepted the challenge, and had so far proven himself. But like with every man, Coulson knew there was only so much before a person cracked. Phil just had to find it.

And he was pretty sure he was about to see it.

Clint was gasping and moaning in obvious frustrated pleasure. He was shaking with the intensity of it all.

"You give up yet, Barton?" Coulson teased. He really hoped he would, because he wanted to fuck him so badly, his own cock begging for release.

"Not a,-not a…fucking chance." Clint choked out, closing his hands into tight fists and then opening them again, agitation clear in his movements. Clint squeezed his eyes shut as his body squirmed of its own volition, making him gasp at the competing sensations.

"Pity." Coulson remarked, schooling his voice to sound casual. "I'd love to take you down from there, push you down onto the bed and fuck you fast and hard. Just how you like it." Clint whimpered deliciously at the mental image combined with Coulson's relaxed tone. His breath kept hitching as he shifted his weight, trying to alleviate the pressure on his bare feet.

"I would love to make you come. Come with my dick filling you up and pounding into you without a way for you to escape. Not that you would. You love taking my cock, don't you? Love coming on my cock. You probably don't even need anything else, except my permission." Coulson said in a sultry whisper. The desired effect was immediate, Clint trembling and crying out softly in wordless want. "You just have to ask, Clint. That's all you have to do. I can make you feel so good, baby, just ask me for it."

Phil knew he was playing dirty, but he'll take what he can get. He's got assets, so he'll damn well use them.

Clint groaned at a sudden shift, and then he was back to panting hard, the sharp angle of his neck pulling him back and making it difficult to breathe deeply. He was so close, Phil could see it. He just needed to give in.

"C'mon, baby. You can end this. You've been so good for me all week. Don't you want to come? Don't you want my cock? Don't you want me?"

That was the breaking point.

Clint completely gave in, and started begging frantically, "Please! Please, Phil!" Clint whimpered and shivered.

Phil stopped circling the bed, and unclasped his hands to set them on the bed, lightly. "Please, what? What do you want, baby?" Phil knew he was being mean at this point, but it had been a long week. He was going to milk it for what it was worth.

Clint moaned out something incoherent. "What was that, Clint?"

"Please fuck me! Phil, sir, please! Just fuck me, oh god." Clint was gasping out each word and shaking apart. It was enough for Phil to jump into action and start taking everything apart, loosening the ropes, taking out the vibrator and sliding out the hook. With gentle hands, Phil eased him down onto the bed, pushing the crate off of the bed. He still kept Clint bound, though he was in a much better position without his neck straining anymore. Clint could tip his head forward now, and he did, watching Phil with hooded eyes and licking his lips.

Clint was stretched and open from the hook, so Phil didn't even bother with any preamble before he was sliding into Clint and picking up a brutal pace. He gripped Clint's hips and the spreader bar to steady both himself and Clint as he fucked him hard, just like he'd promised.

"I'm so proud of you, Clint. Such a good boy for me, aren't you?" Coulson praised. Clint's moans were forced out of him with each snap of Phil's hips. It didn't take a genius to see that Clint was loving every minute of this, breathing hard and arching his back as best he could in his position. Phil just grabbed his hips and ass and pulled him closer and upwards, shifting the angle slightly before bearing down again and driving into him with renewed vigor.

At one point, Clint whined and made grabby motions with his hands. Phil didn't miss a beat before he shifted his stance in order to interlock his fingers with Clint's so that they were holding hands. It created such an odd juxtaposition of gentleness, with the rough fucking Coulson was currently imposing on Clint. Clint just made a happy noise of approval and then immediate cried out when Coulson nailed him straight on his prostate. Again. And again.

"Fuck, you feel so good. So tight and hot." Coulson breathed out harshly, his own exertion starting to take its toll on him. It didn't matter, though, because Coulson could feel himself on the verge of coming, his cock aching with the need to come.

With a desperate squeeze of Clint's fingers on Phil's, Phil thrust in hard a few more times before he finally allowed himself to tip over the edge, coming hard. He was breathing fast and twitching with aftershocks still, when he let himself slip out of Clint, smug about the trail of come that followed out of Clint's twitching hole.

"Phil? Sir, please?" Clint started mumbling, shaking his head from side to side and wiggling his hips in a desperate plead for attention. His cock looked so sore, and Phil smiled when he saw it jerk of its own volition in tune with Clint's heavy breathing.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Phil asked, mildly distracted by the come leaking out of Clint's open and loose hole.

"Please let me come, please-, please let me,- I just want to come, please, sir." Clint was rambling, and his eyes were wide and frantic as he watched Phil.

Coulson took in Clint's desperate expression and he planted a sweet kiss on top of one of Clint's shackled feet, an idea already forming in his mind.

"Hmmm, not yet, I don't think. I'm not quite done with you." Phil grinned again at the choked whimper that Clint made as his hips pushed up imploringly. Phil placed his hand down on Clint's knee, silently ordering him to stay still. When he was sure that Clint would stop squirming, Phil got up from the bed to pad over to their walk-in closet where they kept all their toys. When Phil disappeared momentarily, Clint whined pathetically and started shifting around.

"Clint." Phil's warning voice drifted from the closet, and Clint immediately settled down, reassured that Phil hadn't left him.

After another few moments, Phil found what he was looking for and walked back into the room, crawling back into bed with Clint. "Look what I found." Phil asked excitedly lifting his hand to show Clint the toy.

"Oh, fuck me. Please." Clint approved wholeheartedly when he saw the string of anal beads dangling from Phil's fist. It was a long string, with beads that went up in size from moderate to quite large.

"That's the plan." Coulson smirked and settled into place. He had already lubed up the beads while in the closet, and so he didn't waste any time pushing in the first one. Clint shivered at the feeling, and Phil reveled in the sight of the bead pushing in his own come back into Clint's body. It made him feel possessive as he pushed in the next bead, causing Clint to groan.

By the third bead, Clint started begging again, but by the fourth, Phil couldn't understand him anymore. Clint was getting overloaded with all the sensations, and he couldn't help squirming like mad, no matter how much Phil tried to settle him with reassurances and comforting words.

Clint was whimpering steadily and quivering uncontrollably when Phil pushed in the last bead, which had some difficulty staying inside. It took a couple of nudges before Clint's body finally accepted the intrusion, and Clint's mouth could only gape open in mindless pleasure.

"So fucking good for me, aren't you?" Phil breathed, awe coloring his voice. Clint wasn't paying attention to his surroundings anymore, too lost in the sensations to focus. It took a few minutes of gentle coaxing to get Clint to concentrate on Phil, and once his eyes focused on his face instead of drifting away, Phil murmured, "Look at me, there we go. Are you ready for this?"

Phil knew that Clint had no idea what he was talking about anymore, but it didn't stop him from counting down, "Three." Phil slipped a finger inside to push in the beads further, making Clint gasp and shudder.

"Two." Phil pulled out and readjusted his grip on Clint and the end of the string.

"One." In one fell swoop, Phil flicked open the cock ring, and pulled out the beads in rapid succession. Clint's eyes widened in total shock, and was utterly helpless to do anything but come, too overwhelmed with the combination of everything. Phil was surprised himself by the sheer strength of his orgasm, chuckling when it shot high enough to land on Clint's chin, and make a mess out of his chest and stomach. Phil didn't think twice before he was bending over and licking up each white stripe and spot, changing between tonguing and scraping his teeth across Clint's heated skin. Phil could feel Clint shiver unconsciously under his mouth, and took pleasure in the goose bumps he raised when he lightly blew over the wet skin.

Smiling to himself, Coulson straightened up and began to free Clint from his bindings, letting him stretch out on the bed where he fell limp and pliant wherever Phil moved him. With a rag, Phil cleaned up the rest of the mess on Clint's front, and then gingerly wiped away the mixed lube and come from Clint's dripping hole.

Content with his work, Phil satisfied himself with showering Clint with kisses and pulling him into his arms until Clint was semi-coherent again.

"Mmm," Clint moaned unintelligibly. Phil laughed at Clint's attempt at communicating.

"I love you so much, Clint. I'm so fucking lucky to have you." Phil murmured reverently as he pressed kisses along Clint's shoulder and neck. Clint replied with another groan that sounded like he was returning the sentiment, but it didn't quite have enough syllables in there.

Phil didn't mind, he knew what Clint meant. Phil was happy to just stay in bed and cuddle the fuck out of Clint, basking in the glow of complete contentment with themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! :D


End file.
